
liiJiiiliM 






ome 



(^MuntrV 




COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



A LITTLE BOOK 



OF 



HOME AND COUNTRY 
VERSE 



BY 

JOHN ALBERT LEHMANN 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY 

ALICE MAY SHRIVER 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 

BY THE EVANGELICAL press 

CLEVELAND, OHIO 

1906 



I OCT 8 1906 
eopy 8 






Copyright, 1906 

BY 

John Albert Lehmann, 
Savannah, Ohio. 



TO MY MOTHER 



r-r''. r-\ 










There's a roaring in the distance, 

^S^itli tempest clouds in sight! 
The timber snaps like kindling, 

And the sky is black as night! 
The lightnings flash! The thunders peal! 

There's trembling every-where— 
The mighty torrent is out-pouring 

All the clouds can spare — . 

There's contentment in the wood, 

And contentment in the field; 
And rejoicing in the brook. 

For the splendid vapor yield. 
The birds are full of music. 

And the air is full of cheer — 
The fields are full of flowers, 

And the sky is bright and clear; 
The creek is over-flowing. 

And I'm wading in the stream, — 
Away back there in the meadow — 

I'm back tJiere, in a dream! 



XIII 



SOME OF THE CONTENTS OF THIS 
LITTLE BOOK 

PAGE 

The Story of a Rural Ambition 29 

Our Old Garden ■ . . . 89 

When We Fished in Walnut Creek 58 

Our Teetotaler , . 121^ 

She Hath Done What She Could 186 

Bub 50 

Tater Diggin ' 102 

When Aunt Mary Lived With Us 73 

Days Gone By 183 

Our Big Newfoundland Pup 149 

My Compensation 157 

As They Used to Be 21 

Battle Armor 65 

Christmas Tide 182 

Let the Sunshine In 48 

He Will Fill Our World With Song 112 

The Pilgrimage 155 

A Great Artist 106 

When the Bluebirds Come 47 

A Kingly Patriarch 54 

Old Deck 85 

June 179 

To Apollo 64 

The 20th Century Pace 67 

The Humming-Bird 84 



Contents— Continued 

PAGE 

A November Coincident 161 

Der Zauber-Trunk 57 

Legal and Medical Cloth . 163 

Melon-Time . 166 

Truth 159 

The Shepherd's Eealm 141 

May 109 

A Juvenile History op the Creation 113 

Don't Forget the Boys and Girls 173 

Strawberries an' Cream 86 

A Jolly Little Rambler 185 

The Serpent of the Cup 135 

Colloquial 96 

A Little Pear 69 

The Professional Nurse 99 

Little Giants 70 

Spring Time 139 

XVI 



A FEW OF THE PICTURES 

PAGE 

The Old Home— As It Used to Be 23 

Their House Was But a Cabin, and the Outbuildings 

Shackled and Old 31 

Just Me and Sister ^^Min" 59 

And Helped Us Gather Hickory-Nuts 77 

It Takes a Lot of Patience 98 

We Broke Him in, Cradling Timothy Seed 125 

The Shepherd is a Kindly, Thoughtful Man .... 143 

A Nice, Sweet, Juicy Melcn in a Shady, Cool Retreat . 167 



^"^S^ 




XVII 



GO, ihou hits of rliyme, and speak of mcmonj^s mill; 
A)id if, percliance, an one should say thee ill — 
Tell liim, too, ivitli all ilnj faulls, 
Thou art tlie child of one who lores thee slill. 



A LITTLE BOOK 

OF 

HOME AND COUNTRY 
VERSE 







AS THEY USED TO BE 



BLOAY. ye gentle winds, the years softly blow 
throngii ; 
And carry me back to the scenes I once knew : 
To the hay-mows 'n sheds, where we played hide and 

seek— 
The bridge and the dam, where we fished in the creek— 
To the wagons and sleds — the guns and the tools. 
And the straw-stacks we'd slide, contrary to rules: 
To the old smoke-house, and bake oven hard by, 
"Where we ripened the bread, the cake and the pie ; 
To the orchard, strewn with its yellow and red— 
And the blossoms before them, hanging o'erhead; 
To the pasture lot, where the calamus growed 
With the flags and butter-cups, next to the road — 

21 



AS THEY USED TO BE 

Where I used to wander along the old stream, 

As I'm wand 'ring now, in a bare-footed dream— 

'Mong daisies, dandelions, and golden-rod, 

Mingled with the clover, in the blue-grass sod; 

Past cat-tails and rushes, 'mongst snipes and kill-deers 

— Their wail-stricken notes still ring in my ears — 

To the old lone tree, where the hickory-nuts grew— 

And the old saw-mill, we used to scamper through, 

As the evening shadows, where the willows crossed, 

Went glim 'ring in distance, until they were lost. 

And I'm wishing too, as I never thought then, 

I could travel those fields all over again ; 

When old home-nooks and garden, I'd hope to see — 

Plainer yet than pictures— r/.s tJiey used to he. 

Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow through; 
And tell me the tales that I once listened to : 
Tell of the fathers, who came over the sea, 
To build in the forest, unhampered and free — 
Of the pioneer homes, where they toiled and dwelt. 
And the rustic church altars, 'round which they knelt. 
And bring back to me now, those voices again. 
That told of the cabins, the soldiers and men— 
About Indians, deer, and game in the woods; 

22 



r-(?.<' 















AS THEY USED TO BE 



And trading corn and wheat, for nails and dry-goods. 
Yes ! tell me the stories. I so loved to hear. 
Away back "in the passing"— many a year. 



Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow through; 

And whisper again of the joys I once knew— 

The pigeons, guinea pigs,— the little pet lamb. 

It still follows me now. wherever I am; 

And the little pet rabbits, I couldn't forget, 

Seem almost as near and as dear to me yet; 

AYhile "chums" I once knew, with strong heart and 

good Avill, 
As in days of my youth, oft visit me still : 
For 'tis friendships Ave've tried, and found to be true, 
That will cling to our lives, whatever Ave do. 
The little old chest, Avith its relics and toys — 
Seems packed full to this day. Avith pleasures and joys; 
While mirth, of past days, seems returning again. 
To pay interest uoav, on sports enjoyed then. 
But AA'hat are the thorns, bereft of the floAvers, 
Or a journey through life, Avith no pleasant hours? 
AYhen those happy hours, AAdiich the memory knoAA\s, 
Bring cheer to our lives, like the bloom to the rose. 

25 



AS THEY USED TO BE 

Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow tlirough 
Take all of the tears and the sorrows I knew : 
Go bnry them well, and go l)nry them deep — 
Forever to rest in Eternity's sleep. 
Bnt the pleasures and joys, of youths' better part. 
Are sacred to my life and dear to my heart : 
Welcome them on. into Eternity's day.— 
Nurture them kindly all the journey and way. — 
AVater them freely with the dew of thy love — 
To blossom again, in the sarden above. 




0, joyous Spring! Sweet goddess of the year! 
^yJllJ haste thee onf AYliy not linger longer here? 
^Ye haA^e come, Ijut a little ivhile to stay; 
^Vhy not then remain, to cheer us all the wayf 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

? 'T^ \\WS early iu the Spring of sixty-three, he staked 

A his little claim; 
lYJiic]), but an eighty acre lot. was interesting just the 
same. 

Pie had gone into a partnership, with the idol of his 

heart. 
And they settled on that little farm, each willing to 

do their part. 

Their house was but a cabin, and the out-buildings 

shackled and old : 
AYhen the frosts of winter came, they "d ' ' chink ' " the 

cracks to keep out the cold. 

It was a pleasant place to live, built out on the edge 

of a hill : 
Some forty rods from a country church— sixty, from 

an old saw mill. 

29 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

They'd light from a cheerful blazing fire-place, with tal- 
low candles too; 

To help them "mend," and "patch," and knit, and 
spin— "the way they used to do." 

Those days, they'd "rag-sewings," and parties too, with 

"singing" now and then; 
And log-rollings and hiisking-bees, where women oft 

out-did the men. 

But they had started in to build a home, with money 
rather sliort; 

And but few conveniences and tools, of the very cheap- 
est sort. 

They denied themselves many a want, living plainly as 
they could. 

Hoping sometime, to have plenty, and enjoy life as peo- 
ple should. 

Though they'd scant supplies of furniture, they'd lots 

of courage and pluck; 
And Heaven somehow, kindly blessed them, with a right 

good share of luck. 

30 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

All of their plans made lots of work, which kept him 

mainly out of doors: 
And during" the busy seasons, she'd always help do up 

the chores. 

He fixed a lane down to the spring, and made a new 

watering trough : 
And split some rails, and built some fence, meanwhile 

clearing some timber oif. 

He planted an orchard, and built some sheds, and 
hauled a lot of stone: 

Besides attending the season's crops, and their harvest- 
ing, when grown. 

Sometimes, when his farming would permit, he would 
deal in stock a spell: 

For those were old time civil war days, when most any- 
thing would sell. 

When horses would get a little dull, he would speculate 

in sheep : 
And quite often the bunch that would go, was the flock 

he'd thought to keep. 
33 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

And though they had gone quite deep in debt, they fin- 
ally cut their way 

Right through the mists of poverty's woods, out into the 
open day. 

But it's singular how a little success fosters one's am- 
bitions, 

And widens out to-morrow's plans, in spite of to-day's 
conditions : 

Yet, somehow, while they had worked hard, and suc- 
ceeded with crops they'd sown. 

They kind of "got set" on land that joined 'em, they 
thought they'd like to own. 

So they sold that little farm, with some grain and stock 

and tools on hand; 
And bought the old family homestead, with twice the 

'mount of work and land. 

It was like starting new again, with a great big burden 

of debt; 
But they both were energetic, and worked from morn 

till sun would set. 

34 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

And they economized and saved, till they'd redeemed 

their mortgage notes, 
And had gotten the farm Avell stocked, with horses, 

cattle, sheep and shotes. 

They fixed np fences and buildings, and bought some 

furniture and tools; 
And made things nice and homelike, so's to work by 

more convenient rules. 

And Heaven sent children into their home, with cheer 
their hearts to fill; 

Making a lot of care and trouble, as children most al- 
ways will. 

Those years were fraught with anxieties — some serious 

illness too; 
And with much of grief and worry, which only God 

and parents knew. 

But trials and self-denials should leave us stronger for 

their test; 
And point us along lifers pathway, toward the things 

that's for the best. 

35 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

And they labored earnestly, to bring up their children 

trne and good: 
Seeking, in all things, their best welfare, as they felt 

that parents shonld. 

They both agreed, that none should e'er have cause to 

say that they had shirked: 
And that their children ne'er should toil, through all 

the hardships they had worked. 

Forgetting, that in fortune huikling is tlie way theit men 

are inade : 
And tliat one can't huild for others, more than they, 

eyes or ears, could trade. 

That earning one's own tread, 'bequeaths appreciation 

of its worth: 
That wealth of fare, unearned, cannot strengthen by 

any law on earth. 

That moral worth, set in wisdom's shrine, ivith a faith 

and courage strong. 
Are the world's most precious gifts, which to edl true 

sons of toil belong. 
36 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

It's sing'lar too. liow one's ambition will pull up in 

the collar, 
When he takes to widening out his land, and saving 

every dollar. 

And it Ix'iud of shuts our best world out. to ''get set" 

OH moneyed things; 
And denies us the greater pleasures. wJiich life's true 

enjoyment brings . 

But he 'd lots of stock, and crops were good, with money 

and notes on hand, 
And. had been rapidly acqiring, a general taste for 

land. 

So they bought back again that eighty, where they'd 
started in, in life: 

And later, one hundred twenty more, with some trou- 
ble and some strife. 

He scraped up, to meet this last contract, all the dow)i 

money he could: 
Adding a six thousand dollar mortgage, to make the 

balance good. 

37 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

The land had been neglected, and he'd bargained for a 

heap of work; 
But that he regarded little, for 'twas a thing he'd never 

shirk. 

He was always planning ahead, as he said, for the rainy 

days ; 
But clouds loom up when we least expect, and oft from 

opposite ways. 

And mixed up with his problems, about fences, stock, 

and notes, and land; 
There was one he proved unable to solve, of qnite a 

different brand. 

He'd gotten kind of all run down, and contracted a 

ling 'ring cough. 
Doctors said, "he must take a vacation, and take it 

now — right off. ' ' 

They said, that "he had worked too hard, and too con- 
tinuous and long;" 

That "he'd have broken sooner, had his constitution 
not been strong." 

38 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

""He'd a worry weighted heart, with torpid liver an' 

coated tongue"— 
""And that the general effect of this, had settled on his 

lung." 

They said, thej^ thought the mountain air, of Colorado, 

'd make him well; 
That the beauties of that country, there wasn't a pen 

nor tongue could tell. 

And some thought the coast would do him good, where 

the air was balm and free; 
That 'twould be nice to sit and listen, to God's music 

in the sea. 

They all agreed that he needed rest, and that it would- 
n't pay to wait; 

That fare and costs in traveling, were much cheaper 
than grave-yard rate. 

For there's no rule to estimate the value of one's life 

and health; 
They're things that can't he measured, hy the world's 

accumidated wealth. 

39 



7 HZ STiJRT OF A RURAL AMBITIOX 

And with your health, you're better off, if you don't 

otcn a peck of oats. 
Than he. who's slipping in the grave, with fortunes 

wrapped in land and notes. 

Opportunities, like measles, come and &) — they don't 

go and come : 
And oft we do not see them, till they've got some dis- 

tance off from home. 

He could find no way of leaving, so many things had to 

be done; 
To leave home in his condition, he thought he had some 

risk to mn. 

Ai :l - LLr friendly advisers thouirht. if he'd quit work^ 

the time would come. 
When he would be a good bit stronger, by staying right 

there at home. 

That he could sort of oversee, and know how things were 

going on: 
And save himself some extra worry, he might have, if 

he were gone. 

40 



THE ST^JRT OF A RURAL. AMBITION 

But this sitting around and watching, and being con- 
tented too. 

Whilst your affairs go on by proxy, is a thing most men 
can't do. 

And as time passed by, lie foimd himself ^raduallT 

growing weaker: 
TVith his congh becoming more hollow, and quite a good 

bit deeper. 

Tis sad- that faithful toilers shonld break down under 

burdens of debt: 
But 'tis a road, long been well traveled. — many are 

travling it yet. 

With ambition, 'tis hard to determine one's true meas- 
ure of strength: 

For a chain shows its wtak Uni:s, only when stretched 
beyond its full length. 

Hopeful enterprises strengthen, building up courage 

and power: 
While the hopeless, discouraging task, weakens its bearer 

each hour. 

4" 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

And those hurdens of choice, which in health, he found 
so easily borne. 

Hmig now. like clouds of oppression, of their oncf at- 
tractiveness shorn. 

Sometimes, he'd hum a little tune, with words that end 

with "Gates Ajar:" 
And speak of One. who'd make a death-bed. soft as 

downy pillows are. 

And when he would speak of leaving, upon his cheek 

there 'd rest a tear: 
For he said. Heaven "d been good to him. during the 

years he'd spent here. 

One day. along quite late in March, he said he thought 

he'd live till ^May: 
But the angels came that veiy evening, and took him 

right away. 

And the ambitious soul, of a brave, courageous life, well 

striven. 
Returned to its Creator, from whom it's faith and 

hope were given. 

42 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

That Mother, with her children, struggied on that farm 

for many years; 
With land and crops, and diff'rent kinds of stocky 

'gainst mortgage notes and tears. 

And they worked together in that home, as if planted 

there to stay; 
Till they'd nndermined those mortgage notes, and 

cleared all their debts away. 

And while their fortunes were doubtless changed, bear- 
ing burdens on them laid, 

And solving problems, not their own, to work out plans 
by others made; 

Yet. those years bequeathed them training, in courage, 
industry, and thrift : 

Which, in the world's industrial highway, is not a pur- 
chased gift. 

What the world would mean ivithout ambition, is diffi- 
cult to say; 

Though, 'twould o'erturn our civilization, to take it all 
away. 

43 



THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION 

In adding columns of figures, you'll notice ciphers do 

not count; 
That it's the greater digits, which most increase the 

final amount. 

And whilst some virtues may be spread too thick, like 

plaster on the wall; 
They're far better in abundance, than not to have of 

them at all. 

But of last results, be they great or small, there's only 

God can tell, — 
Yet, we are all promised credit, concerning things 

which we've meant well. 




44 



THE lily looks up to catch the dew,— 
A lesson in life for me and you; 
Heaven's rich hlessings are free to all, 
Beady to receive them as they fall. 




WHEN THE BLUE-BIRDS COME 

THERE'S music in the timber, 
And the buds are swelling some: 
And everything is happy — 

— When the Blue-birds come. 

The Guinea-hen's rejoicing 

'Cause the Winter's fairly past; 

While the turkey-cock's admiring 
The shadow he can cast. 

The ducks and geese are counting 

On a heavy season 's crop ; 
And the maple sap's flowing, 

As if it couldn't hardly stop. 

The chip-munk's 'bout as jolly 

As a Bob-o-link in June; 
The Pheasant's drumming to the "twitter" 

Of the Blue-bird's tune: 
46 



WHEN THE BLUE-BIRDS COME 

The Robin likes the country, 

And he's ,'^:ettled down to stay, 

And the Sap-sucker's busy 
Every hour of the day. 

There's music in the timber, 

And the buds are swelling some 

And everything- is happy— 

— When the Blue-birds come. 







/• t'^- 



47 



LET THE SUNSHINE IN 

OXTR everyday ills and aches and pains, 
"We should learn to bear alone: 
The world has no time to be bothered; 

It's got troubles of its own. 
To salute our neighbor with the blues, 

Isn "t just quite the thing to do : 
When, perhaps, he's got some vexation. 

That's piercing his heart most through 

Opening our windows tow'rd heaven. 

And letting the sunshine in; 
WiU make us more cheerful and happy. 

Than we otherwise, have been. 
Distributing kindly words and deeds. 

To relieve another's pain: 
Like the bread, which, cast upon waters. 

Will return to us again. 
48 



LET THE SUNSHINE IN 

Comforting the sad and afflicted, 

TV ill lighten our owti heart's care; 
Filling life's spirit with hopefulness. 

Drives away clouds that are there. 
A thoughtful charity in our hearts. 

Will brighten our lives and face; 
And the smiles and blessings it bequeathes, 

Will help fill the world Avith grace. 




49 



''BUB" 

IT'S singular how there's times in life 
When our given names don't fit; 
An' nick-names we git at school, 

Er 'mongst our chums, pass with better wit. 

When nom-de-plumes applied to "shavers," 

Like this youngster at my knee, 
Suit quite as well as the "grown-up" titles 

Of high society. 

An' I look back now through the years 
— To the time when I was "Bub," 

An' tripped across the meadow thistles 
— Er give my toe a stub, 

To head a flock of sheep, er bunch of cattle, 

Er a calf, er pig — 
Whilst the man that owned 'em, stood the 

Crossin's, an' drove the horse an' rig. 
50 



How we wouldn't more'n git past the corner, 

'Till he'd spy a gap er gate; 
^'Skip 'round 'em "Bub" — be quick, git to movin' 

"Afore you be too late." 

An' when we had got 'em where he'd want 'em, 

Er at the journey's end, 
He'd give me a nickle, er quarter. 

An' a first-class recommend. 

Then, sometimes, folks would say, "here Bub's" 

An apple, er cookie, fer you; 
Er else a picture-card, er piece of pie, 

Er a doughnut er two. 

An' once a big stock dealer give me a lamb — 

An' didn't charge a cent; 
Whilst other folks come along an' got lambs, 

They paid fer 'fore they went. 

Another time a city doctor, 

Who'd come out to see the sick, 
Handed me a nickle, sayin' 

"Here Bub — open the gate right quick." 
51 



An' while that's been many years, 

An' 'twas fifteen rods out to the gate, 

I remember well his compliment, 

Fer he didn't have long to wait. 

An' I was glad to see him come; 

I liked him then, an' alwaj'^s will,— 
Though all the nickles he paid me, 

Each made him a five-dollar bill. 

It's singnlarjfoo, how nickles then, 
Were greater than eagles now; 

An' kindly words an' compliments, 
Equal to honors kings allow. 

An' I still tJiink, as I've often thought 
— While time's been pasing on. 

That the world's lots bigger while we're "Bub. 
Than when we are Pete an' John. 

An' I'd be content, could I boast the wealth 

I had when I was "Bub"— 
With just a nickle sal'ry, now an' then, 

Besides my clothes an' grub. 

52 



BE clieey^ful, helpful and ever true, 
The journey through; 

Making life and eternity long, 

One grand sweet song. 




A KINGLY PATRIARCH 

THE oak is great, 'mongst forest trees, - 
He stands above them high; 
With kingly grace his out-stretched arms, 
Doth reach up toward the sky. 

In root-hold grasp and giant strength, 

No other tree compares, — 
His leafy branch o'er shadows all, 

With bounteous crops he bears. 

By nature's plan, he doth provide, 

A harbor shelter good. 
For many birds and animals, 

In search of home and food. 

To human will he meekly bows, 

A servant kindly true ; 
Doing in industry and art, 

What others fail to do. 
54 



A KINGLY PATRIARCH 

His tensile strength and quality, 
With lasting power great — 

Makes of him a burden bearer, 
In every Land and State. 

In texture, beauty and finish, 

His peer hath not been found; 

The pride of art, 'mongst men of marque, 
In state the world around. 

Pie upholds the mightiest craft. 

The ocean can afford; 
And "bluffs" the angry tempest, 

AVith a thousand men aboard. 

He's a mine of wealth in the woods, 
Our , commerce doth attest ; 

Like the gold that's in the rocks, 
In the mountains of the West. 

I love his splendid presence. 

He's the forest monarch strong; 

I wish that he might still remain. 
Through all the ages long. 
55 



A KINGLY PATRIARCH 

'Tis sad to see him passing, 

Like a vet-ran pioneer; 
Oh! would that he might talk of scenes, 

Since first he settled here; 

If he could tell what's taken place. 
In the years lie's come through; 

And recall the incidents. 

Of a Century or Two — 



I think we'd all enjoy to hear, 
The tales he might relate; 

Explaining how our country grew, 
From wilderness to state. 




56 



DER ZAUBER TRUNK 

AS I watched the kettle boil at twilight, 
And saw the vapor rise ; 
There appeared the ideal of my heart, 

In the mist before my eyes. 
With thrills of joy my heart strings tinkled; 

At last, I had found my own : 
But lo ; how quickly gone ! just a myth ! 
I was sitting there alone ! 




57 



WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT 
CREEK 

TF I'd my choice of times to live again, and had to 

make it quick; 
I'd go right back to those happy days, when we fished 

in Walnut Creek. 



For fishing in that old stream was sport, — not all brag- 
gin' and expense; 

Where the number and size of 'Svhales" we could see, 
simply was immense. 



Where the fish would bite, when signs were right, morn- 
ing, noon or anytime; 

And the season's tackle all combined, would not cost a. 
single dime. 

58 



WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT CREEK 

A willow sprout,— a cotton string, — some angie worms, 

—an old bent pin; 
And we'd sit down there on the bridge, and fish, — just 

me and sister "Min." 

We wouldn't more'n get started, till they'd begin to 

circle 'round and shine; 
Just a kind o' sort of courtin' us, to throw in our bait 

and line. 

But the biggest ones in all the bunch would stay down 

on the bottom; 
And we'd bait right up close to 'em— but 'way they'd 

"skip"— we hadn't got 'em. 

0-o-oh got a bite ! pull quick ! see what a ' ' lunker ' ' ! 

0-oh-h-h he "slipped the pin;" 
And the biggest fish we got that day, was the one that 

fell back in. 

I've fished up 'mong the lakes and streams, for pick'rel, 

bass, musk-longe and trout; 
And more than once surprised the campers, with weights 

o'er scales they couldn't doubt. 
6i 



WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT CREEK 

And I have tested fancy territory, bragged 'bove all 

the rest; 
With all the signs 'bout bait and tackle— what and 

when they 11 bite the best : 

But I've not since found the fish so large, nor quite 

so anxious and thick ; 
As they were some thirty years ago, when we fished 

in Walnut Creek. 




.^^ 



62 



"LET cliarity begin at ]iome'' 

Is good sound doctrine everywhere: 
But charity soon gets dull at home, 

^Yhen it always — stays — rigJit — there. 



TO APOLLO 

WHAT causes grass to grow, 
and don such splendid hue? 
What makes the vapor rise, 

and then descend in dew? 
Who bids the flowers bloom, 

with stores of Nectar sweet? 
Who fills the husk and chaff, 

with grains of corn and wlieat? 
Who paints the rainbow tints, 

so pure and true and bright? 
Who bids the stars to sparkle, 

with their brilliant light? 
I begged "The Gods" explain; 

by myth or code or dream: 
The modest Moon replied; — 

'' 'Tis the merrv Sunbeam/' 



64 



BATTLE ARMOR 

THE keys to heaven God puts in your hands, 
They're worth more than jewels, or bonds, or 
lands ; 
The Pearls they unlock are borne from above, 
They are Kindness, Gentleness. Truth and Love. 

The first of these keys is Faith in God 's law ; 
From this, springs Hope, which Avill constantly draw 
Your courage tow'rd levels of strength and pow'r, 
And conquer trials in life's darkest hour. 

They'll fill your life full, with sunshine and grace, 
That will help to brighten the saddest face. 
They will help you to feel another's woes, 
With Christlike sympathy that ever grows. 

They'll build you a world 'mong the great and strong, 
And friends you can "count on" your whole life long; 
Of joijs and griefs in the throng of life's day. 
They will keep good safe, and drive bad away. 

65 



liATTI.E ARIVKJR 

They'll fill your life's journey with pleasant hours, 
And strew your pathway with music and flow'rs. 
In the 'Afternoon', Avhen time is more fleet, 
They'll crown your life-work with contentment sweet. 

Then, in the 'Twilight,' when the battle's done, 
And the long promised vic-try's clearly won; 
Those keys in your hands— the greatest is Love, 
Will o'liide vou safe to the Heaven above. 




66 




THE 20th CENTURY PACE 

PEOPLE hustle now-a-days, 
As if they hadn't long to stay; 
And had only come to see, 

How soon they could get away. 

They keep about as busy, 

As the chipmunks in the fall; 

When gath'ring up the beach-nuts, 

'Round the trees that's thick and tall. 

Pretty soon the tvinter comes, — 

Some, haven't time to make a will: 

But the world keeps grinding on, 
'Tis civilization's mill. 

67 



^^ 







'4M,-: 



^/>///-<^',^^i^ 



A LITTLE PEAR 

A LITTLE yellow pear, 
Was hanging rather low 
When Willie spied it there, 
His mouth, it watered so. 

The doctor done his best, 

The neighbors all allow, — 

Willie is now at rest, 

His mouth don't water now. 

In the little church-yard, 
They filled a little pit; 

And left a vacant chair. 

Where Willie used to sit. 

And by that little pear. 

There's none can ever say,— 
How mucli of grief and care, 

Willie escapes to-day. 



69 



LITTLE GIANTS 

THE drops of dew 'bring to the rose, 
A fragrant cheer untold; 
Supplying want, which Heaven knows, 
Could not he bought witli gold. 

The spa)-Jili)ig rain-drop, spent in steam, 
Doth lift the greatest weight; 

It drives the wheels on land and stream. 
And moves the ocean's freight. 

A little moral courage pure. 

In tense affairs of life; 
Will oft win fortune's cause secure, 

'Gainst wealth of arms in strife. 

Smiles, from a kindly heart and face, 

With piirpose nobly true; 
Will oft accomplish in life's race, 

What science fails to do. 
70 



LITTLE GLVXTS 

The tender word, wliich love imparts, 
In spirit thought fid pure; 

Will oft heal wounds and broken hearts, 
Whicli doctors fail to cure. 

The music in a chilcVs sweet voice, 
Hath strength the stoutest own; 

It makes the weary to rejoice. 

And melts the heart of stone. 




A friend of mine, 'calls' oft in June. 

— So polite: 

Sometimes, betwixt the Sun and Moon, 

— "Bout twilight : 
^A'histlinii' that old familiar tune, 

—Bob. Bob. AYhitel 



WHEN AUXT MARY LIVED WITH US 



Y 



ES, Aunt ]\Iary. when you lived with us. I have 

often thought : 
^S'e'd lots of splendid times, come free, we could have 
no wav bouo'ht. 



But we didn't realize it then, the same as we do now — 
A\"earing smiles and beams of joy. 'stead of furrows in 
our brow. 



For those were days when we were young— we were but 

children then; 
Time slips by more quickly now. since we are women 

and men. 

73 



WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US 

And pleasures we loved once, with thinp^s that seemed 
so good alway, 

Perhaps we wouldn't appreciate, had we them here to- 
day. 

But little kindly words and deeds, which in our ivay 

are cast, 
Taste forever sweet and good, from our first day to our 

last. 

And though many years have flown, since we all to- 
gether dwelt, 

At the old family homestead, and 'round the same alter 
knelt : 

The mem'ry of those good old days, it seems can't leave 

my heart; 
With all their scenes of life we played, in which you 

took a part. 

Those days in which we children all, were chiefly good 

or bad; 
And when we would not keep the rules, you'd help us 

wish we had. 

74 



WHEX AUXT MARY LR^ED WITH US 

Yet. when we'd get in mischief, you'd deal kindly as 

yon conld ; 
And when we Averen't vSO very bad. you'd say we had 

been good. 

AYhen you Avere niakine pictures and distrilniting the 

paint. 
You'd keep ils ottt of colors, by consider 'ble restraint. 

Then you'd take >onie tissue paper and teach us Iioaa' 

to draAA'. 
According to some junior methods in artistic laAv. 

Yoti'd help us Avitli our school AA'ork. and take interest 

in otir games : 
Yoti'd solve our hardest problems, and pronounce the 

big long names. 

And Avhen some misdemeanor would develop in a fuss. 
You'd advance .some proposition, protecting each of us. 

75 



WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US 

Then yoii taught us how to sew, and many another 

thing; 
And helped us gather hickory nuts— and, coming home, 

you'd sing. 

But I sometimes think, perhaps, your greatest disap- 
pointment. 
Was over efforts teaching us, manners and deportment. 

When we'd gather corn and apples, you'd help do up 

the chores; 
And you always kept things cheerful, both in and out 

of doors. 

And once you came in from milking, splashed all over, 

somehow, 
And said you'd had some trouble with "that spotted 

kicking cow." 

Then one day we'd a runaway— the team ran down a 
hill, 

And dumped us along the commons; — it seemed a dread- 
ful spill. 

76 



WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US 



The carriage was completely wrecked — we got an awful 

fright ; 
And while some were badly injured, we all ''slipped 

through quite light." 



At times you'd show us how to do some things we'd 

never learned ; 
Like snuffing candles quick, hy hand — I got my fingers 

burned. 



And one time we had a party — 'twas on a Winter 

night ; 
You surprised us playing ghost, in a room with shaded 

lio'ht. 



You'd remember us at Christmas, and other holidays; 
And send us little presents, and were kind in many ways. 

And your thoughtful interest did not end with Christ- 
mas eve— 

But kept right on, through-out the year,— it never 
seemed to leave. 

79 



WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US 

Sometimes we'd go up to the woods — Ave thought it 

quite a charm; 
To play 'round those fine fountains — the pride of 

Spring Valley Farm. 

We would gather leaves in Autumn, and flowers in 
Spring-time ; 

And study nature's harmony, when written most sub- 
lime. 

And there is a host of other things, which I now re- 
call; 

Among them some, Avhich ink and paper, won't convey 
at all. 

A few are Avrapped in memories, I somehow cannot 

tell- 
From dreams of the old homestead, you may glean them 
- quite as well. 

But we'll someday meet together— I can't just now say 

when — 
We'll hold a family reunion, and talk things over then. 



80 



WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US 

And HOW, may heaven rich blessings, on all your life 

bestow ; 
And in kindness, grace and truth, may you continue to 

OTOW — 



Eight on, through all the years, unto the evening of 

life. 
Till the victorv is in view, near the end of the strife. 



Then, like a pilot of ocean with the dangers all past, 
And your ship nearing the haven, with your crew safe 
at last,— 



You'll find, when well anchored, and call the roll of 

all aboard; 
That you've a great host of friends, who'll rejoice with 

one accord. 



But in taking an invoice, of the goods you've carried 

through. 
You'll find some incidents and things, you can't set 

value to; 

8i 



Vv'nEX AUXT MARY LIVED WITH L"S 

And iu your general smnniing np — in my account and 

bill; 
Keep careful record of the gooeJ, but cancel out the ill. 

Then, at the final reckoning, when e'er that time shall 

be: 
May Heaven kindly deal with you, as you have dealt 

with me. 




82 



Some say, "There's fortune in the Moon," 

Because it shines at night; 
That one should see it when it's new, 

And gives a crescent light: 
And that the luck then much depends, 

Upon the line of sight. 
You laugh, and say— "Nothing in it"— 

"But superstitious blight;" 
Yet you'll somehow, feel the better, 

To see it on the rigJU. 



THE HUMMING BIRD 

THERE'S mnsic near my window - 
And I answer on tip-toes : 
It's a meri*y little hiimmine-bii'd, 
Tisitins: a rose. 



It Lives among the dowers. 

And it thrives on neetar sweet : 
Eor its little throat's too dainty 

To swallow corn and wheat. 

I can't tell jnst why it is. 

Bnt I've thought abont it some — 
Why other pretty birds can sing. 

While it can only hiun. 

I listen to its miLsic. 

And I wish 't would stay for hours 
It seems so like an angel. 

Around amone the :dowers. 



84 




It 



l^-^ 



OLD "DECK" 

OLD "Deck" was always g'ood and true, 
a tried and trusty friend; 
With courage strong for any task, 

and faithful to the end. 
He helped to build my sheds and barns, 

—the farm's main-stay each year: 
Can I deny him in old age, 

a well earned bounty here? 
Shall I turn him now to market, 

for paltry bits of cash? 
To be enslaved in feeble years. 

beneath the cruel lash? 
I'll deal with him as seemeth just — 

as kindly as I can; 
For there's sense of heart and feeling, 

in brute as well as man. 
85 



STRAWBERRIES AN' CREAM 

WHEN the Creator made the berries, 
and had finished all the rast; 
He carefully looked them over, 

concluding He hadn't done his best. 
So He picked out all the virtues, 

of the whole promiscuous batch ; 
And just combined them "snug" in one, 

without a single thorn or scratch. 
He gave it lovely color, with a taste and size 

that can't be beat; 
A splendid acid and aroma, 

mixed with lots of juicy sweet. 
Then He gave it special preference, 

and brought it early as he could; 
When He thought we would most appreciate 

a berry that was good. 
You may talk about confection goods — 

all you can draw with a team ; 
I'd rather have a half a quart 

of nice ripe strawberries an' cream. 
86 



STRAWBERRIES AN CREAM 



You can eat them at any time, 

and always rest at perfect ease ; 
And as many as you've room for, 

and then digest them when you please. 
They go right well, when made in pies, jell, 

canned, short-cake, or taken " straight. '^ 
I'rom the ' ' earliest of the season, ' ' 

to the last of the ''real late." 
When sick or well, at meal or lunch, 

they are a safe and healthful food; 
And although they might have been made better, 

I don't see how they could. 
It always made my mouth water, 

to see the season coming on ; 
And I'd feel so sort of sad like, 

when I would find that it had gone. 
And I used to sometimes think, 

as I 'd wonder how Heaven might seem ; 
That I, for one'd, be satisfied, 

if they'd plenty straivherries an^ cream. 




87 



OUR OLD GARDEN 



?nnWAS all laid out old fashioned like, with middle 

■i- foot paths, crossed both ways; 
And the beds raised up with flowers 'long the paths, 
way they were those days. 



I think about three rods by five, with a hop pole at one 

corner ; 
And some currants, and some gooseberries, around the 

outside border: 

And some sweet Catawba grapes, which, 'fore they were 

ripe, we often tried; 
With a couple of little plum trees, over on the other 

side. 

'Bout garden truck, I mind but little, 'cept we'd every- 
thing that's good— 

Of all the kinds 'twer up to date, and growed 'em 
thrifty as we could. 

89 



OUR OLD GARDEN 

But gard'nin* time. I haven't forgot — keepin' out cliiek- 

eus— anyhow: 
And I think I"d buy my garden truck, were I keepin* 

chicken^- now. 

%.v-Vr'/V'' For there's somethin' "hout a garden bed — I've noticed 
-^— tmie and agani.— 

It's the most attractive spot on earth, to an enter- 
prizin* hen. 

Tet there's always things that's bright, ling'ring^ 
"round onr meditative hours : 

And when I think of our old garden, it's those old- 
fashioned flowers. 

Near the path, right at the center. Avas that old spiky 

Yncca plant : 
And another kind, all full of "sticker-;." I'd like to 

name— bnt can't. 

Among the earlies. was '" Belle of the Alps"— splittin' 

ground like a wedge : 
And a lot of little Crocuses, "long the path, close to the 

edge. 

90 



OUR OLD GARDEN 

And when it came to early risin', other flowers had no 

show ; 
They'd display their colors first, if they had to stand 

Tight in the snow. 

There was every kind of Hyacinths — I always 
'' banked" on them: 

With Easter flowers and Tiger Lilies and Stars of Beth- 
lehem. 

There were lots of Tnlips, of the finest, I've seen none 

since so nice : 
They'd descended from some in Holland, that had sold 

for awfnl price. 

We'd Sweet AVilliams, Johnny- Jump-ups, and Jacob 's- 

Ladder by the fence ; 
With lots of great big Holly-hocks, and when they 

bloomed, they were immense. 

But one thing I didn't care for most the time, was our 

old Lilac bnsh; 
Yet, for about three weeks in the Spring, those Lilacs 

were "in the push." 
9« 



OUR OLD GARDEN 

We'd striped Grass, Alpine Stars, and great big Flags, 

pretty as they grew; 
And I think our Peona's were as large, as any I ever 

knew. 

Our Lily of the Valley was ever a favorite with me : 
'Twas so sweet and gracefully modest, and blessed with 
humility. 

We'd Roses and Sweet Peas and Carnations, and Morn- 
ing Glories too; 

With Violets, and double Petunias— finer ones never 
grew. 

And when we'd visit that Violet bed, so decked with 

pure and sweet, 
We 'd feel as though we had met a friend, we for months 

had longed to meet. 

There was a host of other kinds, from Poppies to For- 
get-me-not : 

Including Asters, Dahlias, and King's Crown, and some 
that I've forgot. 

9^ 



OUR OLD GARDEN 

And Avhile there are a few new f angled kinds, that's 
nice and last for hours; — 

For good, sound, true, wearing quality— stick to old- 
fashioned flowers. 

Those old time gardens are 'bont all gone, by some 

thirty years at best; 
And the Queens of toil who tilled them, have mostly 

reached their final rest. 

Yet I fancy now in their sleep, they'll glean dreams 

from mem'ry's lardens; 
]\Iaking many pleasant journeys, 'long the paths in their 

old gardens. 

And were I to plan a paradise, with all things as I'd 

propose ; 
I'd seed it down to Lily of Yalley, with now and then 

a rose. 

I'd have some yards of Hyacinths, and some beds of 

violets too ; 
With Tulips and Carnations, and lots more, I 'spect, 

'fore I'd get through. 

93 



OUR OLD GARDEN 

I'd have beautiful vines and trees, ^vith ])looming 

shrubs and lots of birds; 
And fill it with rapturesome sight and song, one can't 

describe in words. 

Then, to the graduated ones of earth. I'd give invitation; 
To make my garden their headquarters, in times of re- 
creation. 

For there's oue thing I'd mudi desire, though I don't 

quite know how to tell— 
That those faithful toilers sometimes see the flowers 

thev've loved so well. 



^ l) 




JA- 



-"I 



9V 



Good stories and jokes often help in their way, 

To lighten our burdens on a busy day; 

But contemptible thrusts, like wild oats, bring care 

To their sower, who will reap the larger share. 



COLLOQUIAL 

SELF-CONTROL is the key 
To all successful conquest: 

To THINK, SPEAK and ACT, 

In regular order ^ is best. 

Though nature provides round trips, 
For venturesome young birds, 

Heaven itself, can't return 
Our hasty, unwise words. 

Harsh words beget anger; 

They are destructive powers: 
While kindliness builds friendship. 

And soothes in bitter hours. 

No demand is so urgent. 

Nor is time e'er so fleet: 
Nor conditions so tense. 

But that it pays to "keep sweet." 



96 



M 



Iv.-^- '-' 



THE PROFESSIONAL NURSE 

THIS takmo: care of sick folks, 
Isn 't an easy thing to clo : 
For it's a life of labor 

And self sacrifice, all tli rough. 

Sometimes things go 'long real nice, 
Then again, they go all ivroncj: 

One day, your patient's better, 

And the next— not quite so strong. 

And mixed np with your worry. 

There's a 'bnnch' of things to do; 

Requiring tact and genins, 

And some good religion too. 

It takes a lot of patience, 

And a right good bit of strength ; 
And nice supplies of courage. 

To hold out the full year's length. 
99 



THE PROFESSIONAL XURSE 

There's oilier "callings/ trying; 

Some, in this respect, are worse: 

But it taJi'ts a lot of grace, 

To rnal'i a real gooeJ nurse. — 

And, methinks. at judgment day. 

AYlien we're called to — "pay our fare 
That nurses should get in free. 

And receive the best that's there. 



For of (/// the folks I know. 

']\Iong the small, or 'mong the great 
There's none that's mo)'e deserving. 

Of a '"pass" through heaven's gate. 




I WATCHED a brilliant, falling star; 
'Tis said, ''They sometimes foretell war." 
It burst o'erhead, when tree-top high; 
'Twas late at eve, 4th of July. 



'TATER DIGGIN' 

J DON'T mind the plantin' of 'em, 
* ner fittin' up the ground; 
But the thing I dread the most, 

is when diggin' time comes 'round. 
I kind o' like to hoe 'em, 

when the ground's nice an' meller, 
An' the rows all blossomed out, 

in white, an' pink an' yeller— 
But when they're starvin' in the weeds, 

er loaded down with bugs, 
It's a business proposition, 

er a pound er two o' drugs. 
I don't mind the Colorado's, 

they 're slow, most half asleep ; 
It's them old-fashioned runnin' kind, 

that comes in droves like sheep. 
Pizen haint much 'feet on them, 

more'n to stimulate 'em some — 
So's them that's here to-day, don't leave much 

fer what's yit to come. 

I02 



TATER DIGGIN 

Lime an' insect powder, 'pears only 

sharpens up their claws ; 
An' paris-green, jist seems to ile 

an' limber up their jaws. 
You've got to git a bunch o' weeds, 

er broom, er old shot-gun, 
An' git up some excitement, 

when they'll soon be on the run. 
Then plough a furrie, er sprinkle 

kerosene 'round the lot ; 
'Twont always keep 'em back, 

fer they kin fly, as well as trot. 

But when you're rid of bugs an' weeds, 

your 'tater crop's all right— 
'Till they take to dwindlin' down, 

as if 'fected with th' blight. 
Then's when I'd like to go 

on a picnic er excursion; 
Er to a circus, er a fair, 

jist fer a diversion. 

But pap's "made out" they're ripe, 

an' he's startin' in to dig 'em; 

An' I've a wooden bucket, 

fer I'm the chap's to pick 'em. 
103 



TATER DIGGIX' 

He's fearin' too. 'bout sigiLs o' rain — 

tlio" not a clond in sight: 
Savin' ■" 'twould never do to risk 

the 'taters out at night : ' ' 
An" nrgin' me to hiLstle. 

"the sooner done, the quicker:" 
But never says a word. 

'bont ha^-in' another picker. 
An' keeps right on a diggin'. 

like a beaver in the Fall: 
Givin' me no ghost of chance. 

to ever ketch np at all. 

The patch is mostly clear of filth. 

jist here an" there a weed: 
Er a tickle gra.ss er fox tail, 

a hangin" ont to seed. 
But it seems good bit wider. 

an' the rows most twice as long: 
As they were at plantin' time. 

— er when the bugs wuz gone. 
An* there's 'taters 'mongst the clods. 

an' pebbles in my boots— 

An' some's all full o' knots. 

an' others hangin' by the roots. 
104 



TATER DIGGIX^ 

An" fer every six er eight. 

that's nice, an" smooth, an" big, 
There's twice as many "little rats', 

it hardly pays to dig. 

Sometimes it's nice to have ''full swing' 
Christmas time I "d riither ; 

But when "tater-diggin" comes. 
I wish I had a brother. 

I don't mind the plantin" of "em. 

ner fittin " np the ground : 
But the thing I dread the most. 

is when disffin' time comes "round. 










\\/^^v 



I OS 



A GREAT ARTIST 

THERE 'S an artist at my window, 
Whose given name's "Jack Frost"; 
He's making prett}^ pictures, 

And lie makes them free of cost. 

Sometimes he's making clouds and stars; 

Again it 's plants and trees : 
And I think he makes the finest ferns. 

One most ever sees. 

He works them up from out -lines. 

And he makes them clear and true; 
And he seems to work so easy. 

And oft' right speedy too. 

He don't dabble with the brush 

— To make his work look right; 

In various mixed-up colors. 

But sticks right down to white. 

And he's got a reputation. 

One might be proud to own; 
As the greatest window artist, 

The world has ever known. 
k6 



I CAST a loaf upot the sea — 

'Ticas quickly swept away; 
And I wondered ivJiere that loaf might he, 

At the close of day. 

At eventide, I stood at shore,— 

Recounting the joy and pain; 
^yhen, full measure, to my hand, — and more, 

That loaf returned again. 




MAY 

THERE is a happy lot of birds and bees, 
Singing and bnzzing in the apple trees; 
Their tongnes are laden with mirth and honey, 
While the farmer's talk is "full of money—" 
He ploughs and cultivates and plants his best, 
And good dame nature kindly does the rest. 

The season's' crawled out of its Winter's sleep, 
And seems wading in health, clear up, chin deep ; 
She has renewed her youthfulness again, 
And's more lib'ral with sunshine, dew and rain; 
While stretching the days to a greater length. 
She's feeding all things on vigor and strength; 
The leaves, that's been unfolding in the woods, 
Are shining bright and clean as brand new goods. 

109 



MAY 



The wood-chuck, that's now so sleek and so gay, 
Makes more shadow 'n he did on ground-hog day; 
The snickering squirrels skip o'er the logs, 
Merry and chipper as the meadow frogs; 
The wood-pecker's diggin' with all his might. 
To secure a location out of sight- 
While the robin's warbling his level best, 
To encourage his mate that's on the nest. 



Geese, that's claimed the barn all Winter, 's forgot, 

Id 'ling away time in the pasture lot. 

The rooster 's more early, 'n lots more to say. 

And crow's twice as often every day. 

Things are full of mischief — chuck full of fun. 

From the chip-munk to suckers in the "run" — 

For it's the jolly month of May, you see. 

And everything's happy as it can be. 




WOULD you wi)i in conflict, earth's ricli rewards, 

And he successful in tlie strife? 
Be prompt and thorough and systematic, 

In every affair of life. 



HE WILL FILL OUR WORLD 
WITH SONG 

ALL of our trials and sorrows, 
Our little mistakes, and their tears — 
The hopes and ambitions blighted, 

We've cherished and nourished for years- 
The little griefs and disappointments. 
Which seem so hard to forget — 
Take them all— to the Fountain of Grace; 
It never has failed lis yet. 

The little keen annoyances. 

With all their pains and heartaches now- 
And the little vexing discords. 

Which deepen the lines in our brow^ — 
Why not leave them all with the One, 

Who is ever willing and strong? 
He will tune our hearts to nature's music, 

And fill our woiid with song. 




A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE 
CREATION 

\ ^ / HEN all the elements were free, 

and roaming' wild aronnd in space; 
The Creator organized a plan, 
to bring them all in place.— 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

There was nothing then to pattern from, 

for everything: was raw; 
So He started systematic, 

and kept his boolvs by natural law. 

He mapped out His own curriculum, 
and begun things right away; — 

With hiin, a day was but a moment, 
and a thousand years a day. 

TheUj He figured out some formulae 
based on rules He'd studied well; 

And experimented making spheres, — 
just how long, I cannot tell. 

Of these. He made a multitude, 

with variations of the rule : 
And polished most of them like diamonds, 

but kept one. for His foot-stool. 

Those He had brightened, He stationed apart, 

some distance off in space; — 
And started them revolving 'round, 

with lawful, systematic grace. 
1.14 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

At once, there sprung up rivalry, 

'mongst these spheres for admiration; 

And those that could outshine the rest, 
ranked of course, in higher station. 

A favored one outshone them all, 

and the Creator named him Sun; 

And He bade all the rest show him respect, 
in all their journey's run. 

The most of them He called planets ; 

some favored few got special names— 
The little ones He called his stars, 

and gave them space to play their games. 

Then, He issued special orders, 

that Sun, by day, should give the light; 
And He told the rest, if they'd keep the rule, 

that they might shine at night. 

He gave his foot-stool special preference, 

and named it Mother earth; 
And said, that while she dressed quite plain, 

they'd all appreciate her worth. 
'15 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

He told them all about his plan, 

that each of them should help along; 

That here on Earth He'd build a world, 
and intended to build it strong. 

Sun boiled the water in the Sea, 

and carried it over the land; 
And, with other agents helping, 

began converting rocks to sand. 

The Creator sent the sand to valleys, 

and mixed it with the clay; 
And begun general farming, 

in his own good natural way. 

He sowed broad-cast some grain and nuts, 

— and various kinds of seeds: 
Part grew up to useful plants and trees, 

others merely came to weeds. 

There were some that seemed to grow the best, 

in a cold and dreary spot; — 
While others flourished in a climate, 

that was mostly damp and hot. 

Tl6 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

He made all the plants and trees, 
in as many sizes as he could; 

A few, he made for ornament, 

but most of them, he made for food. 

And he filled the world with animals, 

of every form and size: 
The most of them could see or walk — 

a few, that had no leg's nor eyes. 

Many he made to live in water, 
whether fresh or salt or stale ; 

From the minutest little wiggler, 
to the biggest kind of whale. 

A few, he made to creep on land; 

others, so they could walk about : 
There Avere some quite wee and feeble ; 

a few were very large and stout. 

Some he made to fly in the air, 

and live in rocks and crag's and trees; 
Adapted to all kinds of climate, 

from the mountains to the seas. 
117 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

A few of these he attired in colors, 

quite beautiful and grand; 
Some, for protection, he dressed more plain, 

— color of the rocks and land. 

'Mongst all his animal creations, 
of each kind he made a pair; 

And gave to them their special names, 

and blessed them with his kindly care. 

He started all the animals, 

on a scientific ration; 
Some lived on meat from others, 

but most of them on vegetation. 

And he planned things so that neither kind, 
could monopolize the earth; — 

When one would get a bit ahead, 

he soon could check them with a dearth. 

And though He'd gotten things well started, 
He hadn 't quite finished his plan : 

So combining genius with experience, 
He made the species ma?i. 
ii8 



A JL^TEXILE HISTORY OF THE CREATIOX 

Naming the man pair Adam and Eve, 
He placed them in His garden: 

Under rules and regulations, 

in charge of the gen'ral warden. 

To accomodate his animals. 

He made one general rule — 
That if they weren't pleased where it was warm. 

they might go where it was cool. 

Where their legs and necks were too short. 
He gradually made them longer: 

And fixed things so the young and weak, 
were protected by the stronger. 

A few odd vspecial ones. He found too slow 

to keep up in the race : 
So he planned ahead for others, 

to some time later take their place. 

But there was one He couldn't control. 

and finally determined to leave : 
Which has since become identified. 

with biography of Eve. 
119 



A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION 

Then He took a day's vacation, 

when he had done 'bout all he could; 

And carefully looked the whole fiekl over, 
concludino- all was good. 



And according to some records, 

which He'd kept in various ways, 

He had finished up all his creations, 
in less than seven days. 



igsm? 




WHEN God made all the creatures— 

Whether they walk or fly, 
He gave to them their likes and tastes, 

The same as you and I. 
He blessed them with thai love and fear. 

With which our hearts He'd fill; 
He made us all, one family here, — 

The children of His Will. 




d>^ 



OUR TEETOTALER 

HE had come out from the Forest City, to get a 
breath of air; 
He'd "been, for years, shut in a store-room, selling- 
various kinds of ware." 



"Chjse and steady confinement, with long and strenuous 

business hours;" 
Had begun to show upon liis health, and undermine his. 

powers. 



OUR TEETOTALER 

His friends unitedly agreed, "he'd better take a vaca- 
tion;" 

And go straight to the country, and try some out-door 
occupation. 

He said he'd "come from the City," and that his name 

was Lakeville Grout; 
And that he'd "kind of got run down," and that he 

"wasn't so very stout." 

But that he thought "the country air, Avith exercise" 

would do him good; 
That he could ' ' do most anything, from building fires to 

chopping wood." 

That if we "would give him a job," he "could start in 

that very day;" 
That he'd "be well satisfied," with whatever we felt we 

could pay. 

He said Ave'd been recommended; that he heard Ave 

needed a hand; 
That he Avas pleased Avith our surroundings, and liked 

the lay of our land. 
123 



OUR TEETOTALER 

He said he'd been ''raised in the mountains, of the 

grand old Keystone State;" 
Where they "earn their bread by the sweat o' tln-ir 

brow", and ''always give good weight." 

We tested his temper that afternoon— and got its color- 
grade ; 

For the harvest field late in Jnly. is not blessed willi 
store-room shade. 

We "broke him in" cradling timothy seed. — he wiltc^l 

in the race; 
But, from that day on, he proved stout and strong, and 

always held his place. 

We all "took to him" from the start, and were glad to 
have him with us; 

He was efficient in his Avork. and mingled with it, cheer- 
fulness. 

He had nice supplies of energy, genius and applica- 
tion ; 

And was a splendid visitor, with great funds of m for- 
mation. 

124 









'^i|a# 



i/- 



OUR TEETOTALER 

He'd been through the great rebellion, and loved to talk 

both war and peace; 
From the breaking up of China, down to the politics 

of Greece. 

But his most favorite subjects, were temperance and 
religion ; 

For he said, "things in the City had got in a bad con- 
dition." 

And that "Satan held a mortgage, on some whole busi- 
ness blocks and streets : ' ' 

And even "in the city council, controlled some popular 
seats. ' ' 

He spoke about the City IMissions, and the work they 
had to do; 

Of splendid efforts they'd put forth, and of their cour- 
age brave and true. 

He mentioned Francis Murphey, — what a blessing to the 

Avorld he'd been; 
And how he had blocked the way to ruin, and saved so 

many men. 

T27 



OUR TEETOTALER 

Sometimes he'd speak about the judgment, but more 

"bout heavenly things; 
And would frequently refer, to the time when we'd 

be wearin' wings. 

But some, among us, had suspicions, and discussed them 

now and then: 
Which were mostly based on conversation, whilst out 

amongst the men. 

That while Grout was bright and cpiite well posted, and 

always full of cheer:— 
There was something about his moralizin'. that didn't 

seem sincere. 

But Aunt Jane, who was living Avith us. protested be- 
yond a doubt— 

That there "wasn't," in all the country, a better man 
than Lakeville Grout." 

That "his blessing at the table was the best she had 

ever heard; 
And came the nearest to fulfilling the injunctions of 

the Word." 

128 



OUR TEETOTALER 

That, "according to the scriptures, a man with thong-hts 

so broad and deep, 
Would certainly, at the final roll-call, be connted with 

the sheep." 

But Nathan Squires, our milk route man, who'd just 

come in from doing chores ; 
Said he "believed no bigger hypocrite, was runnin' 

loose out doors." 

"And concernin' Aunt Jane's final "round up," he'd 

"bet a peck of oats" — 
"That when the flock was all divided, he'd be runnin' 

with the goats." 

But it seldom pays to argue, 'bout other people's faults 

and ways; 
For we all, each, have kinks and traits, which in others 

we would not praise. 

Yet Grout was losing interest, in Church as well a^ 

Sunday-school ; 
Which was altogether contrary, to his former general 

rule. 

129 



OUR TEETOTALER 

He said little 'bout City Missions, and less of the tem- 
perance fight: 

He was falling oft: in reading, too, and away much more 
at night. 

But things were gradually coming on, that would test 

the matter straight; 
And which later changed some good opinions, at quite 

a rapid rate. 

Squires' claimed, he'd "found bottles in the barn — lying 
on the rafter plate;" 

That "hidin' things that way, was a confirmed, old- 
fashioned, '^ bluffers" trait." 

That Grout was associating, "mongst some who liked 

tlieir toddy too;" 
And that "we'd all find out before winter," that what 

he said, was true. 

We were fairly commenced husking corn, and with sev- 
eral hired hands; 

Had just finished eating dinner, and were out fixing 
fodder bands. 

130 



OUR TEETOTALER 

The boYs had made some Rambo cider, and thought 

we ought to tiy it.; 
That "it would do us little good, if we never would 

go nigh it." 

But while 'twas running, Grout said,— 'twas "a thing 

one should, by rights, let pass;" 
But that, "for the sake of harmony," he would "try 

a half a glass." 

He kind o' squirmed, and looked surprised; he said 
'twas "stout, "—'twas four days old. 

He stated too, " 'twould be good, he thought, "for a 
man that had a cold." 

AYe kept our cider in the cellar, with two big wide open 

doors ; 
Eight out in front, next to the path, Avhere we'd come 

in from doing chores. 

AVhile the cider Avas fermenting, we'd fill the barrels 

every day; 
But the thing that was surprising, was how that cider 'd 

dry away. 

131 



OUR TEETOTALER 

We carefully examined the barrels, and we could find 

no flaws; 
But on a sill, behind the barrels, we found a few long 

wheat straws. 

We 'mongst us, planned some local schemes, and 
watched to see how they might work; 

And before night, that very day, we trapped our Forest 
City Clerk. 

Aunt Jane went in hysterics; — 'twas a secret, now no 

longer hid; 
'Twas plainly seen, that while Lake Erie never got 

drj/— ''Lake" Grout did. 

He'd brought his passion to the country, where he 

thought 'twould do no harm; 
But when Satan owns a man, he^s got him;— m town 

or on the farm. 

And though he had many virtues, his taste for drink 

was in control: 
And drove him on, from bad to worse, until he reached 

the drunkard's goal. 

132 



OUR TEETOTALER 

He was devoted to his family, providing as best he 
could : 

From his life, we might all glean lessons, which per- 
haps would do us good. 

He had sown, reaped, and garnered, some wild and 

vigorous crops of oats: 
Leaving fortunes in experience, but none in real estate 

or notes. 




133 



OXE eve. a tiny liiile mousie 

Spied a hit of cli.eese: 
The ichiclK he founel, hy looJi'ing 'round, 

He could secure with ease. 

Mousie's mother cured him up. 

But it tool' Iter rnore'n a day: 
Arid now. when mousie spies some cheese. 

He turns and strips away. 




TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP 



OH, Cruel Monster! Why wrench 
God's image from the clay? 
It's just as dear to him now, 

as w^hen in childhood's day, 
He stamped the mark of character 

upon that young- face, 
And bade the youth beneath it, 
grow up to manhood's grace: 
135 



TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP 

And planted within liis heart, 

those intuitions strong, 
Which giean from nature's mnsie, 

life's treasury of song. 
And he put inside his breast 

a courage true and brave— 
Oh ! Vicious Demon ! By what power 

dost thou hold him slave? 
AYho knew, that with his strength, 

thou couldst drag him to this end? 
Thou Fickle Fiend! It's by this process, 

thou art his friend ! 

]\Iost "Wily Serpent ! Wliat subtle means 

doth bring thee gain? 
It's life's spirit, thou hast stolen 

from the golden grain; 
Converting it, by the fiery fumes 

of Satan's breath, 
Into thy Essence of Crime, and thy 

Tincture of Death. 
Then dost thou don attractive colors, 

blending with song\ 

And with cunning speech,— 

concealing all pretense of wrong. 
136 



TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP 

Thou Stealthy Yillian! By such means 

hast thou built this snare, 
To win men captive, with all 

their life 's promised welfare ! 



Thy slave hath served thee well, 

to the limit of his strength; 
Eetain him in thy grasp, 

but hold him at full arms length. 
Thou art honest now, — 

Thou hast his means, — leave him to fate ; 
His reward, the Grave; His premium. Death 

with no rebate. 




THE higliesf aim one can achieve, 

Is to he wise and true: 
For these, bring all the world can give, 

Witli ]i ear en's promise too. 



SPRING TIME 



SOME sing of the Autumn, when the leaves turn 
gold: 
But I sing of the Spring-time, when they unfold. 
When Winter is over, and beauties are showing, 
And buds and blossoms are swelling and blowing; 
The Black-birds and Thrushes are merrily singing. 
And the forest, with their music, is ringing: 
The hills and the valleys, in luxurious bloom. 
Are filling the air with their sweet perfume; — 
While the fields are smiling, in the sunshine and rain, 
Foretellino- abundantly, the harvest asain. 



0, Joyous Spring-time! Sweet Goddess of the year! 
To thy beauty I cling, as I cherish thy cheer ; 
For thy musical grandeur, of soul thrilling part. 
Is ever sweet to my life, and dear to my heart. 
There's joy at the reaping, when harvest is made; 
But there's 7iwre in the promise of blossom and blade. 
There's cheer in Autumn, for the weak and the strong; 
Yet, 'tis doubled in Spring-time, with beauty and song. 
Ah, the Spring-time grandeur, with its flowers and 

birds. 
There 's no artist can picture, in colors or words I 

139 



SPRING-TIME 

O ! glorious season of promise and mirth. ! 
O'erladen with joy, for all creatures on earth: 
Though, with gold of the Summer, and feast of the 

fall, 
I yet love thy sweet presence more than they all. 
Oh, with thee would I dwell, for ever and aye; 
Passing, finally, from earth, in Spring-time, away,— 
With birds and blossoms, the abiding to keep. 
While my soul slips away, at the still quiet sleep, — 
To awake with the dawn of the morning of love, 
In the beautiful Spring-time eternal, above. 



f^ 



f c 




140 



THE SHEPHERD'S REALM 



^ I ^HE Shepherd is a kindly, thoughtful man, with 

large and tender heart; 
And an ever-present willingness, to in all things do his 
part. 

He quite well appreciates the force of environments in 

life; 
And he sees and feels, the pains and griefs, of those 

weaker in the strife. 

He is ever regardful of his flock, and counts the time 
well spent, 

Which he devotes in planning, for their highest, best de- 
velopment. 

He will always treat them kindly, and make them happy 

as he can; 
For that is both food and medicine, good for bird or 

beast or man. 

HI 



THE SHEPHERD S RE^VLM 

And when he finds they're getting weary of the same 

old pasture lot. 
He will plan to sort of change them 'round, to a more 

congenial spot. 

And thoufih the pasture he no Vtetter. yet he finds it does 

them good: 
If it's only a change of scenery, "twill hti-lp digest their 

food. 

Quiet surroundings he'll <eek for them, with plenty of 
good water, 

And nice supplies in winter, of suitable kinds of pro- 
vender. 

He'll plan some special care and quarters, for the young 

and weak and old: 
To better protect them, in bad weather, from rain and 

storm and cold. 

For the little lambs, his heart is open : he is their faith- 
ful friend : 

To accommodate their needs and wants, he holds ready 
hands to lend. 



THE SHEPHERD'S REALM 

He finds investments, in his fiock, returning interest 

profit, good; 
Whilst ridding land of filthy weeds, they've furnished 

him both clothes and food. 

w 

^Yith hohits, tastij, neat, and clean, loving peace and 

avoiding strife, — 
The sheep doth set his master good example, safe to hold 

through life. 

The Shepherd's calling is a noble one, of highest rank 

in state, 
And in al} history, associated with the good and great. 

Abraham, with his flocks and herds, sought out the ways 

of greater worth, — 
And founded and established the most favored, chosen 

race on earth. 

'Twas the Shepherd lad, from Judea's hills, slew the 

giant with a sling; 
Becoming Israel's protector, and later— her greate^-t 

King. 

- 145 



THE shepherd's REALM 

'Twas the foremost Shepherd of Yirginia, whose given 
name was Georg-e, 

Became the "Father of his Country"— the hero of Val- 
ley Forge. 

Earth's once strong maritime power, sold her sheep for 

fleets and conquest whips : 
A great nation got her sheep, bonght her land, then 

sunk her battleships. 



Sheep have accompanied each advance in civilization's 

tread ; 
Good fortune following that people, with plenty of 

flocks well fed. 




T46 



THE pansies look like cliildren, 

But tliey can not walk; 
They seem so bright and cheerful, 

Though they can n.ot talk: 
Yet they whisper softly, 

In thoughts so tender true, — 
^Vords of heavenly love, 

Sent down for me and you. 



OUR BIG NEWFOUNDLAND PUP 



W 



E had all been wishing w^e owned a dog, for nigh 
almost a year; 
And we kind o' thought we'd like one, the neighbor's 
stock, and tramps, would fear. 



We'd heard of a man w^ho kept Newfoundlands, about 

five miles away; 
So one morning I harnessed a horse, and drove up there 

in the sleigh. 

I found a nice, sleek, batch of pups— a quite attractive, 

jolly pack; 
One or two had marks of white, but the most of them 

were coaly black. 

My choice of the lot had four w^hite feet, and was white 

across the breast— 
Awkward, modest, heavy bones— I figured that he'd 

beat all the rest. 

149 



OUR BIG NEWFOUNDLAND PUP 

I filled a basket with the pup, and emptied out my 

pocket book; 
And when I turned him loose at home, you ought to've 

seen the family look. 

He seemed to win the household heart, from the minute 

he landed there; 
And to trespass lease, on farm and patience, we 'lowed 

him liberal share. 

For one can't help sympathize with innocent pups in 

all their strife; 
Blessed with sense of appreciation, so heyond their 

sphere in life. 

I got a strap and a copper ring, and made for him a 

collar ; 
He was always bright and cheerful, but, betimes, a little 

''holler." 

His first meal, was a pint of milk — it seemed a plenty 
for a pup ; 

But he lapped it down so rapid quick, he almost swal- 
lowed the cup. 

150 



OUR BIG NEWFOUNDLAND PUP 

Eeach pup has points of strength, I've heard it said, un- 
less he is a scrub; 

And tliis pup's stronghold, right from the start, was ca- 
pacity for griib. 

We named him Benjamin Franklin, because he always 

looked so wise ; 
And what he lacked in wisdom's ways, we thought he 

might make up in size. 

He was blessed with humbleness, a kindly modesty and 

grace- 
Virtues, seldom o'er prevailing, even amongst the hu- 
man race. 

And although the preface of a book, don't tell how the 

story ends; 
Yet there were none who ever met that pup, but what 

he made them friends. 

He seemed to have two aims in life — the one, to eat, the 

other, grow; 
And we tried to accommodate him, — far as our supplies 

would go. 

15- 



OUR BIG NEWFOUNDLAND PUP 

His tastes were suited to most everything, — cooked 

plain, or dressed, or raw; 
So when it came to choosing food, his storage limit was 

his law. 

Mother 'd fix up his meals, of bread, meat-victuals, and 

pastry galore; 
He would gulp them down like water-spouts, then anx- 
. iously look for more. 

He could eat more fried potatoes in a day, than we'd get 

pared at night; — 
And we seldom had meat enough at once, to please his 

appetite. 

He never got the dyspepsia, and was always hearty and 

strong ; 
With his constitution perfect, his appetite never went 

wrong. 

When he was two years old, he weighed just one hun- 
dred and fifty-four; 

Had he always had all he could eat, he, perhaps, would 
have weighed more. 

152 



OUR BIG NEWFOUNDLAND PUP 

He remained, through life, a devoted friend, faithful to 

all around : 
Now he sleeps, 'neath the shade of an oak, in his favorite 

hunting gTound. 



But I've learned a lesson, that T\'ill last to the longest 

day I live : 
And if there's value in experience, I've this advice to 

give : 

That when yaur salary's running low, and provision 

things are "up,'' 
TJ(i}il- twice, before you undertake to raise a big Xew- 

foundland Pup. 




153 



FEIEXDSHIP can add no value to advice; 

'Tis Txiiowledge, gives it icortli. 
'Tis crime, with weeik advice, to mislead 

A brother hij race or lirth. 



THE PILGRIMAGE 

WHEN an Angel from heaven comes down to our 
race, 
God hides him beneath a child's sweet kindly face; 
And he puts into his hands, some keys from above, 
To open our hearts to his missioii of love. 

In performing his mission, he doth weaker grow. 
For good that he scatters, and had that we sow. 
And the bliss of innocence, with all of its joys, 
Begins to wane away, as tools succeed toys. 

And, as the morning of life crowds into mid-day, 
And our hurdens and cares heap up in their way. 
And our trials and our griefs spring up, like tall weeds. 
To infest the good soil with their evil seeds: 

Then our Courage and our Faith are tried at full 

length, 
When, perchance. Divine Love comes to test its 

strength. 
For God has a way of making the good, more sweet. 
By an occasional taste of hitter meat. 

'55 



THE PILGRIMAGE 

But then, methinks, that there will come a time some 

day, 
When our sorrows and tears shall be swept away; 
When the bliss of our youth will again come around, 
And sing to us — "The lost is found. 



7 ? 



When the storm of the voyage has about passed o'er, 
And our Craft is nearing to the other shore. 
Then joy, from high heaven, will life's evening greet; 
To our soul's contentment, and happiness sweet. 

It is God's choicest Gift, he reserves to the last, 

For those who have conquered the difficult past. 

And, as the peace of God's love, doth by his own leave. 

Like the twilight of morn, return in the eve,— 

So the Angel Smile, of that "child's sweet kindly face," 

Will return to the pilgrim— "Saved by Grace." 




156 




MY COMPENSATION 

1FED and raised a little lamb— 
It seemed so dear to me; 
It loved to play and stay about, 
Wherever I might be. 

It quickly grew to be a sheep, 

The finest on the farm;— 
'Twas sold, to slaughter in the town, 

Thongh it had done no harm ! 

My heart o'er-flowed with grief and tears,— 
Hearts stouter, argned calm — 

And promised me, when Spring-time came. 
Another orphan laml). 
157 



I WATCHED a mother wren, 

AYitli little infant birds: 
How she'd sing, now and then. 

In notes, thongh not in words. 
By day she bronght them food. 

And kept them warm at night; 
And tanght them all she could, 

Till theA^ were safe in flisht. 



TRUTH 

TRUTH is an eternal thing,— 
It somehow never dies; 
You may crush it oft to earth, 
Yet it will always rise. 

While deception may to-day, 
Travel a good strong pace; 

YonTl always find to-morrow — 
That Triitli has won the race. 



It is plainly nature's law. 
Divinely, Heaven's will. 

Though earth's armies all combine, 
Trutli Avill survive them still. 



159 



A NOVEMBER COINCIDENT 

THERE'S a time 'long in November, 
When the weather "goes to sticks;" 
The clouds and wind get frustrated, 
And there's lots of things to fix. 

It's when husking time is over, 

And the crops are gathered in; 

The garden truck 's in the cellar. 
And the apples in the bin. 

It's when corn cakes are at their best, 
And the Syrup's running slow; 

With the smell of powder in the air. 
And quail tracks in the snow. 
i6i 



A X(»VEMBER CUlXClDEXT 

It's when mince pies are ripening:. 
And the kraut is getting: good: 

T^'hile the fire is snapping hungry. 

T\^ith the wood-house full of wood. 

It's when Lima beans and hickory nuts. 

Are stowed a^vay in sacks : 
And the rabbits take their biggest leaps. 

To make a few less tracks. 

It's when the farm's skimmed clean and bare. 

Keeping promise made in June : 
And ever^i:hing is sleek and fat. 

From the house cat to the coon. 

It'> wht-n sheds and barns look thrifty. 

As the English sparrow crop : 
And the house '" chucked" with things to eat. 

From the bottom to the top. 

It's when the turkeys roost up high. — 

To make it safer living: 
And we all count the season's nigh — 

Our annual Thanksgiving. 
162 



LEGAL AND MEDICAL CLOTH 



THERE are quite a few lawyers, "liars," and plenty 
of Doctors, "quacks;" 
But it's as true in other callings, they've got their 
"scape-goats" and "jacks." 



The professions of medicine and law, are the greatest 

on earth; 
Because they reach us at the times, we most appreciate 

real worth. 

And, to saddle all the trickery, on a few that's stout 

and strong, — 
Isn't quite the thing to do, when the credit to them, 

don't all belong. 

But the stealth}^ ^^pettifogger/' and the vicious " pizen 

mixer," 
Are dangerous chaps to have around, distributing their 

elixir. 

163 



LEGAL AXD :)LEDICAL CLOTH 

Tv^liile the honorable lawyer, and the Doctor, conscient- 
ious true. — 
Are blessings to society, which Ave can set no value to. 

The world, to these, doth owe a debt, which moneyed 
A^alues cannot meet: 

For life and fortune, are to us each, most immeasur- 
ably sAveet. 

And I think at the final roll-call, in the place we hope 

to be: 
That Ave '11 find some Doctors and some LaAvyers. Avill be 

admitted free. 










-:-^ 






7 J^ l//'i'' I '' 



164 



ONE morn, 'I breathed upon the air, a song;' 
'Twas carried away, hy the current strong: 
Like the devj of morn, it passed with the day, — 
Its place I knew not, nor whither its way. 
Midst life's turmoils, it was forgotten then; 
But it cheered my heart, like a sunbeam, when, 
From a message at eve\ sent by a friend, 
I gleaned the song, 'from beginning to end.' 



MELON TIME 



IT'S when do^-days is at their best, an' the sun is 
boilin' hot,— 
That you'll have that intense lonoin', fer a cool an' 
shady spot. 



An' you'll feel so empty weary, w^ith a dryness in your 

throat ; 
It's the7i, 3^ou'd mark your ticket wet, if you had a 

chance to vote. 

When everything is filled with dust, an' the streams 

is turnin' dry; 
With nothin' 'pearin' in the heavens, but sun an' clear 

blue sky: 

When the earth is all cracked open, an' the leaves is 

all turned up. 
An' a whole cornfield hain't sap enough to fill a chiny 

cup ; 

i66 



MELON TIME 

An' your tongue is cringin' parched, an' you feel sali- 
vated through; 

Your stummick's tuned fer somethin' damp, an' you're 
conscientious too, — 

Tou'll investigate the sootliin' things, of every kind an' 

grade ; 
^ut nothin' else will fill the bill, like nice, sweet melons 

an' shade. 

There 's lots of things that 's good at Christmas, but this 

is not their time; 
An' things that's good Thanksgivin' — jist now, ain't 

worth a dime. 

Nature's planned a time fer melons, like all else that's 

good on earth; 
An' brings 'em at a season, when we appreciate their 

worth. 

They're made of — mostly water, when other things is 

—mostly dry; 
They're seasoned aromatic, an' colored up to please 

the eye. 

169 



MELON TIME 

There's no more pleasant antidote, fer a day of Sum- 
mer heat, 

Than a nice, sweet, juicy melon, in a shady, cool re- 
treat. 

Some claim, that they might be improved, but wJry,. 

they 11 .tiive no reason : 
Fer it's hard to make things better, that's suited to their 

season. 

Talk about your luxuries, an' all the holidays that's 

made, — 
I'll bunch mine all up together, in nice sweet melons- 

an' shade. 






^V^ 






\ 






'■cm 



r-- 










r^.m^^ 



// 



170 



''THERE is no place like Home/' in life, 
^yhen away from Home you've heen; 

If closed against a world of Strife, 
And a world of Love, shut in. 



DON'T FORGET THE BOYS AND 
GIRLS 

DON'T forget the boys and girls, 
In planning abont the farm; 
For slight neglects in starting out, 
- Oft end in lots of harm. 

Remember, that life's jonrney. 

Is a long and tedions way; 
That men and women tomorrow, 

Are boys and girls today. 

That the eternal laws of growth, 

Of progress, and of truth, 
Are written quite the same, 

In man, and plant, and bird, and brute. 

It pays to study rations, 

When you are feeding cattle ; 
Be as fair with boys and girls— 

Grow tliem strong, for life's battle. 
173 



DON^T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS 

Don't make them chattel property. 
Like horses, sheep and goats, 

And work 'em for all they're worth, 
To pay off your mortgage notes. 

To subordinate their welfare, 

To heap up bonds or lands. 
May dwarf their moral courage, 

And spoil all their life's best plans. 

Keep their minds and morals growing, 
Tow'rd better thoughts and ways. 

By right supplies of liter 'ture. 
For nights and stormy days. 

Keep the home environment. 

Pleasant, clean, and cheerful, too ; 

For that's good moral tonic, 

And will last their whole lives through. 

"Sometimes a change of scen'ry. 

Or a day from home, is good; 

'Twill help correct their judgment. 
And is right good mental food. 
174 



DON T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS 

AVhen school days are in ses.sion. 
You'll find it the safest rule. 

Just to keep them rigiit in line 

With the work they have in school. 

But do not expect a boy. 

With an eye for guns and tools, 
To at once leave off his hobbies, 

And take to 'oTamniar rules.' 

Encoui-age their various tastes 

- Along industrial lines : 
It will help develop muscle. 
And educate their minds. 

And when they maJce great big mistakes, 

You'll censure tliem a hit: 
But any time tliey do rigid well, 

Just kindly mention it. 

And you'll find you'll he the happier, 
^Vhen you're old and gray. 

If you are always true to them, 
1)1 what you do and sai/. 
175 



DON T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS 

Don't discourage anihitions; 

Experience proves quite well,— 
That what a hoy should do in life, 

There's none hut God can tell. 

In the past, a large per cent 

Of the world's successful men, 

Were brought up in the country, 

And are now, the same as then. 
\ 

Look some twenty years ahead; 

In the long run it will pay: 
For men and women tomorrow. 

Are the boys and girls today. 




IT pays to do good, and it pays to do right; 
For success is not icon hy power )ior hy might. 
Dealing with others, as you'd have them deal with you. 
Wins friendship and fortune and happiness too. 



( '"i 




JUNE 

WERE I entertaining angels, 
and wanted things in tune, 
I'd kind o' like to have them come 
some time along in June. 



I would soiuid no patent organ 

against the harps they've played 

But I'd take them to the forest, 
to some nice maple shade— 
178 



JUNE 

Where they might feast their eyes on 
scenery, shrubbery and trees, 

And view the landscape picturesque, 
while resting there at ease. 

And when they'd seen all the flowers, 

so full of honey-dew; 
And had listened to all the birds 

that sing for me and you— 
/ think they would be delighted, 

and wish to come again; 
When I'd bid them hearty welcome 

return — a year from then. 

And if they'd way's taking pictures, 

combining sight and sound, 
I'd want to have them take a few — 

'long home, to show around. 
I'd want some in the morning, 

and I'd want a few at noon; 
And I'd like a few at evening 

— but all of them in June. 
When there's flowers in the garden, 

and flowers in the field; 
And flowers in the pasture lot, 

to help the honey yield. 
179 



JUNE 

There's beauty in the forest, 

and the fields of golden grain; 
And there's beauty in the rain-bow, 

o'er-neath the falling rain. 
There's beauty in the sunshine, 

and there's beauty in the shade; 
There's beauty in the dew drops,— 

and everything that's made. 

There is music in the timber, 

and in the open land; 
There is music in the distance, 

and music near at hand: 
There is music in the morning 

—and the whole day long; 
From the "chatter" of the sparrow, 

to the Whippoorwill's song. 
There's music in the Robin, 

in the Meadow-lark and Wren; 
There's music in the Bob-o-link, 

and 'round the chip-munk's den. 
There's music in the cricket, 

in the squirrel and the Thrush; 
And there's music in the Cat-bird 

— wingin' from the brush. 
1 80 



JUNE 

There's music in the Ked-bird, 

and the Yellow-hammer too; 
There's music in the Black-bird, 

and there's mu^ic in the Blue. 
There's music in the thicket, 

and there's music in the brook; 
There's music in the meadow, 

and everywhere you look;— 
For things are all united 

in one celebrating tune ; 
And the world is filled with mirth 

'till it overflows,— in Jiine. 




^^ 



i8i 



CHRISTMAS TIDE 

p EJOICE. Oh Earth! 'Tis Christmas mornl 
* ^ The angels are singing above — 
The glad tidings of our Saviour, 

And His message of peace and love. 

Ring aloud, ye bells, — the gladsome )ieivs 

Of the ChUcl of Bethlehem : 
And point earth's millions to the star, 

Still shining brillianthv for them. 

Cheer up, sad heart,— praise God today; 

There's joy for each tempest tossed sea: 
'Tis the Christ, who came to bless all mankind, 
As well as von and me. 



[82 



DAYS GONE BY 

1USED to play at keeping house, 
And make real nice mnd pie; 
I did things then, I can't do now,— 

But those days have long gone by. 

I used to climb the rafter poles, 
And trees, and buildings high; 

I did lots then, I couldn't do now,— 
In those days, so long gone by. 

I used to ask great broad questions— 

Sometimes, get no reply: 
I thought things then, I don't think now. 

In days that have long gone by. 

I once knew the first ripe apple, 
And signs of new baked pie; 

I knew things then, I don't know now.- 

Those days, many years gone by. 

183 



DAYS GONE BY 

I once knew each flower and bird, 
The toad and butterfly; 

I saw lots then, I don't see now,— 
But those days have all gone by. 

I'd like once more to take a trip, 
O'er fields I used to ply; 

With all things hig and good as then. 
In those days so long gone by. 




184 



A JOLLY LITTLE RAMBLER 

A DEW-DROP, nestling in a rose, 
Awaked from a morning dream; 
Left its beautiful sweet repose, 
And clambered up a sunbeam. 

It journeyed far to the mountain, 
And slept in a bank of snow; 

Then it rippled from a fountain, 
And helped swell a river's flow. 



It put gold in field and forest,— 

Cheering everything that grows: 

Tired of play, it returns to rest, 
In the bosom of the rose. 



•85 



"SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE 
COULD" 

WHILE putting her house in order, 
Within it, creating a home, 
She always maintained good hearty welcome, 
For all who wished to come. 

Her life was blessed with charity— 

A faith and hope, unhampered, strong; 

Which filled her home with cheerfulness, 
With mirth and music, and with song. 

Her table spread with bounties. 

Sumptuously free, and well prepared; 

And there were none, who ever dined with her, 
But felt they had well fared. 

Her hands were always ready-willing, 

To lighten another's care; 
x\nd it's many a cross and grief. 

With her courage, she helped to bear. 
1 86 



SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD 

When the angels placed me in her arms, 

Her fidelity to prove, — 
She stamped upon my cheek, ''The kiss of joy,' 

And sealed it with her love. 

How oft she clasped me to her breast. 

And soothed my little woes and tears; 

And how her ever faithfulness, 

Hath kept right up through all the years. 

When ill, she would plead High Heaven 
To bless all means to make me well; 

Audi suffered hours of anxious worry, 
None but she and God could tell. 

Then, in all things, she'd point the good, 
And try to teach me ways of right; 

And when in trouble, she'd encourage,— 
Though the clouds seemed thick as night 

She'd enjoy my little successes, 

As on earth, none other could; 

And would share my burdens and vexations, 
In ways, no other would. 
187 



'^SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD '' 

And for aught there be, that's good in me, 

Or in that which I have done; 
If any one's deserving- credit, 

I think she should be the one. 

Among earth's proven, hath she been a (lueen, 
Though dressed in humble gown ; 

By and by, she'll win her heaven; 

Then, I think, she will wear a crown: 



For she hath met life's battle. 

With courage, fidelity and love; 

Entitling her to the rewards of peace, 
Described in realms above. 




OCr 8 lyuo 



